


skinned knees, bruised hearts

by rckll



Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, UAF Secret Santa 2020, i wish tam was my dad, okay but the al'thors are so cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rckll/pseuds/rckll
Summary: "In the Borderlands, sheepherder, if a man has the raising of a child, that child is his, and none can say different."
Relationships: Kari al'Thor/Tam al'Thor
Comments: 15
Kudos: 19





	1. Found

The snow on the mountainside was stained red with blood. Smoke dirtied the eastern horizon. War was a messy business.

The stench of death had lessened as Tam had made his way up the slopes of Dragonmount, distancing himself from the fields of victory. The air had grown quieter; the groans of wounded or dying men falling away, the calls of medics diminishing. The spaces between falling bodies lengthened. Tam inhaled deeply, grateful for the cleaner air up here. He closed his eyes and breathed for a few moments, trying to centre himself with the flame and the void. His head slowly began to clear.

As Tam’s ears adjusted to the quiet, the calm was broken; he could hear the weak cries of- What was it? An animal? Or a- No, not a soldier, a baby. There was a baby crying somewhere on the mountainside. Tam opened his eyes and glanced around him.

There, a little further up the slope. A body. A woman. Blood coloured the ground around her. And there, just beside her, a baby. It lay atop a brown cloak that blew about the babe in the wind, its body was turning blue from the cold.

Tam knelt down to lift the babe, cutting the cord, and swaddling it tightly back in the mother’s cloak. A boy, he now saw. He felt a slight tugging somewhere inside of him, as if his world were shifting off of its axis.

“Shhh, lad,” Tam murmured, “Shhh, I’ve got you now.”

Tam reached up with one hand to unbuckle the straps at his shoulders, making room for the bundle beneath the metal of his breastplate. The boy’s crying slowed as his body began to warm. Tam looked into the boy’s face, his skin was coated in a waxy substance, his eyes screwed up against the bright sun, his mouth quivering with every breath. Tam smiled.

“How did you both end up out here, eh lad?” Tam sighed, brow creasing.

With the boy tucked against his chest, Tam turned his attention to the mother once more. She was an Aiel warrior. Her garments alone would have been a testament to that. Add to those the broken spear that lay in the bright red snow beside her and there was no mistaking it. Her hair was matted with drying blood, but her face had slackened into a smile. Her last moments may have been painful, but they seemed to have ended with a peaceful acceptance. Tam bent down to straighten her limbs. He smoothed her hair around her face. He took the haft of her spear and rested it against her chest.

Once happy, he stood and bowed his head.

“However you came to be here, may you find rest in the Light. I’ll see that your boy is cared for now.” Tam offered up a silent prayer to the Creator for her passing.

Snow began to fall again, gently drifting to rest in the boy’s damp wisps of hair. The boy’s fist had clenched around the fabric of Tam’s shirt. Tam cleared his throat. He bent down to pick up his breastplate before turning to head back down the mountain, sparing one final glance for the dead woman in the snow.

* * *

Tam made straight for the First Captain’s tent when he returned to camp. Fayrn, the guard on duty, waved him through with nothing but a raised eyebrow at the unfamiliar bundle in Tam’s arms.

Maddan looked up from his desk as Tam came entered the tent.

“Ah, Tam. Good to see you alive.”

“And you, Maddan.” Tam said with a grimace.

Maddan scowled at the papers in front of him. “A hard fought battle with many losses. I didn’t expect a report in person from you, Tamlin.”

That had always been Maddan’s way. A quick greeting and then on to business.

“Nor did I, to tell you the truth.” Tam admitted. He would need to sit down at some point to officially draw up the events of the day. But that could wait. There were more important things now. “There are… There are things I need to discuss with you, Maddan.”

Maddan raised both of his eyebrows. He looked at the bundle in Tam’s arms for the first time and frowned. He took a deep breath and nodded, rising from his desk and heading to a corner of the tent. There, he poured two cups of tea from the kettle on the table. He brought them back to his desk and set one down before Tam. Tam knew it would be steeped until dark and bitter.

“Speak, Tam,” Maddan said, taking a sip of tea and looking to Tam, face open and concerned. “I will listen.”

Tam nodded, picked up his own cup of tea, and began. He told Maddan of his movements that day; fighting swathes of Aiel that knew no end, seeing Laman fall with his own eyes, surveying the bloody butcher’s field after the Aiel retreated as one, the tightening of his chest as the scent of death choked him, stumbling away from the cacophony until he found himself on the slopes of Dragonmount, all of it. Ending with his finding of the babe he now held in his arms. For his part, Maddan listened intently, muttering words here and there that Tam did not register.

“You mean to keep the boy,” Maddan murmured. It was not a question. He had known Tam many years now and called him ‘friend’. He knew his mind.

Tam nodded.

“With your leave,” Tam began, “I’d head into the city to fetch Kari, then be on my way. I’ll settle things with my men and leave you all my records, but I’ve had enough of war, my friend. And there’s more than just a wife to think about leaving behind now.”

Silence followed as Maddan drank deeply from his cup of tea.

“You’re a good man, Tamlin,” Maddan finally said. “There’s many who would have left that babe to die out there in the snow.”

Tam frowned at the words, shaking his head. “He’s only a babe. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“I won’t argue with you, Tam,” Maddan sighed. “I can see in your face that it would do no good. Your mind is set and you’re from stubborn stock.”

Tam bowed his head, a wave of emotion had suddenly gripped him. He’d spent long years as a soldier and now the path was widening before him, branching off with different possibilities.

“I’ll have to put it in my records, Tam.”

Tam’s head snapped up, meeting Maddan’s look with a glare. Tam opened his mouth to argue but swallowed the words before he could speak them. “Aye, I thought as much,” he conceded.

Maddan quirked an eyebrow in amusement. Tam chuckled.

“What will your records say?” Tam asked.

“Now there’s the Tam I know,” Maddan replied with a smile. “I suppose they could mention how the venerated Tamlin al’Thor, Second Captain of the Companions, took a poor orphan child into his care after the Battle of the Shining Walls. And that would be all. There need be no mention of the child’s age or ancestry. Not if you want that kept hidden.”

Tam’s grip on the boy in his arms tightened. Tears thickened in his throat and he coughed. “Thank you Maddan. You’re a good man.”

Maddan stood and made his way to a chest. “I look forward to reading your account of the battle. I expect a report before the end of the day.”

Tam rose from his chair and met Maddan in the centre of the tent. His captain placed a bulging sack of coin into his hands, which he looped to his belt behind his sword.

“I doubt you’ll be headed to Illian in any good time, so consider that your pension,” Maddan chuckled. He held out his right hand, pulling Tam into a hug when he clasped his forearm. Tam knew it was unlikely that he would see Maddan again. He wished they had more time for goodbyes. He made his way to the tent flaps and stood erect, raising a hand in one final salute.

“It’s been an honour, sir.”

Maddan nodded.

“The Light go with you, Tam al’Thor.”

* * *

“Kari.” Tam’s voice broke as he said her name.

Kari was even more beautiful to Tam now than she had been when they’d first met. She wore a finely cut dress but made of simple fabric, and her hair was kept out of her face with a folded length of cloth that tied at the nape of her neck and ran down her back to her waist. Her mouth dropped open at his entrance. A trembling hand covered her mouth as she tried to hold back tears.

“Oh, thank the Light,” she gasped. “No one could tell me anything. Nobody knew if you were- I didn’t know if you were-”

She staggered, bracing herself against the table and beginning to sob. Tam crossed the room to embrace her, holding her against him as he placed kisses against her hair.

“I’m alive,” Tam whispered. “I’m here. I’m safe. We’re safe.”

Kari drew a deep, shuddering breath and pulled her head away from his chest. Hurt flashed across her face when she noticed the boy cradled in his arms.

“Why do you have a baby?” she asked.

Tam led her to a wide chair and sat down beside her before beginning his tale. He tried to spare her from as much detail of war as he could, but there could be no avoiding certain things when the boy was tied up at the heart of it as he was.

“He should have been dead, too, but he was just crying there. Crying in the snow. With his mother dead beside him. I couldn't just leave a child, not out there. I’ve killed many men, Kari, no doubt many innocent men. Men whose only offense was fighting for the side opposite mine. There are certain things I cannot stomach.” Tam paused, glancing at his wife’s face. She had been quiet throughout, listening to his recount with interest. He steeled himself and continued. “I thought- since we have no children of our own… I always knew you wanted children, Kari. They say in the Borderlands that it’s not the blood that makes a family. I-”

Kari looked at him. Looked into his face with an unreadable expression. She looked down at the boy. And she smiled.

“His hair’s not that different from mine,” she chuckled, reaching out to rest her hand against the boy’s soft cheek.

Relief flooded into Tam’s body, forcing tension from his bones, causing him to sag as if deflating. Kari deftly took the boy from his arms.

“I knew you'd take it to your heart, Kari.” Tam leaned forward to kiss her head once more. “Now we just need to decide where to go. Would you want to return to Caemlyn? Or we can build a home in Illian, Murandy, Ghealdan. I care not as long as you’re with me. Would you come with me to Emond’s Field? It is peaceful. A good place for a lad with a beginning such as his. There’s enough gold in my pension to buy a parcel of land we can make our own. We can build a good life together there. What do you say?”

Kari smiled at him. “Wherever you are Tamlin al’Thor, wherever our son is, that’s where my home is. I’ve had my fill of cities and crowds. Lead me on to your peaceful life and I will follow with a light heart. I’ll follow you anywhere with your son in my arms.”

He kissed her, cupping his face in his hands, breathing in the sweet smell of her. She pulled away and her face grew contemplative.

“Rand,” she said after a moment’s quiet. “Rand al’Thor.”

She raised her eyebrows in question.

“Yes, lass. Rand is a good name,” Tam agreed, putting a hand to Rand’s head. “A good name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for miekkamaisteri (on Tumblr) as part of the Wheel of Time Secret Santa 2020. Prompt: Tam & Rand father-son relationship. Updates to come every day this week.


	2. Learn

One year had passed since the Battle of the Shining Walls. The journey back to Emond’s Field had been a long one and while Tam and Kari had had plenty of time to grow accustomed to the addition of Rand to their family, there was still so much that they had to learn.

Parenthood, it turned out, was not as simple as the people that Tam had grown up with made it look.

Tam had bought a sturdy cart and horse team in a village just outside of Tar Valon. With Kari having no milk of her own, they needed to stop at every town, village, and farmstead that they came upon to see if there was any to spare. Each morning, they set off while the sky was still grey, not stopping until they reached the next settlement. Some days their journey would take them just a few hours, while others they would travel from dawn well into dusk. On days when darkness threatened with not even a solitary farm in sight, the Light had shone kindly on them; they had ridden by empty fields and thickets of trees just off, occasionally even long abandoned buildings, the weather had stayed mild throughout the night, and they had rested undisturbed until morning.

Tam returned home to find that most, if not all, of the friends of his childhood had started families of their own many years prior. It was understandable given the length time he had been gone. Abell Cauthon had barely been out of his mother’s arms when Tam had left. Now he was married and had a young son of his own, about Rand’s age it seemed. Marin al’Vere had been 13 years old when he had left. Light, she had been ‘little Marin Luhhan’ when he’d left! Now she was raising four young girls, one who must have been close to braiding her hair.

The people of Emond’s Field took Tam’s return with an outlander wife in their stride. The al’Thors had been a week at the Winespring Inn when they were surprised by the whole village gathering onto the Green, akin to the feastdays that Tam could remember from his youth. Introductions were made that hadn’t been previously, recipes were traded, clothes donated, offers of help given to get them on their feet when they settled. The children fawned over Rand’s striking eyes and hair, the older ones taking turns at carting him around to point out flowers and houses.

With what remained of the money that Maddan had given, Tam managed to buy a farm from a family that were moving down to Deven Ride. The land was out in the isolation of the Westwood and the ground was good. Together, they would tend the land, thankful for the bounty that the sheep and the soil provided. Together, they would raise their son, thankful for the fine young boy he was growing into.

* * *

Three years had passed since the Battle of the Shining Walls. Rand was walking and talking, Kari had settled into village life with the ease and grace that Tam had expected, the al’Thor farm was flourishing. Tam’s roots were twisting into the soil of the Two Rivers, strengthening him. His time with the Companions had changed him, he had grown as a man. Farming took patience and care, qualities Tam had dismissed as a younger man, eager for adventure. Now he took solace in the simplicity of their lives, spending each day pouring his energy into the ground to make things grow.

With a boy so close to Rand in age, and living not too far away, the Cauthons were natural friends to Tam and Kari. One late afternoon, the four of them sat in the Cauthon yard, watching the boys chase each other around, laughing and shrieking all the while. Two of Abell’s mares had needed foaling and with Natti being in the late stages of pregnancy, Tam had offered to lend a hand. Natti and Kari had prepared a meal for six of them while the men worked, now the dishes lay empty and Abell was thumbing his pipe full of tabac.

“Do you think you’ll ever have another, Kari?” Abell asked, running his hand gently over Natti’s stomach.

“Oh,” Kari replied. “I won’t pretend it’s something I’ve dreamed of, but I think my time has long past now.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Natti said with a laugh. “You’re not so much older than I am.”

Tam reached out under the table, gripping Kari’s hand tightly. Kari smiled.

“Perhaps you’re right, Natti,” Kari said. “Light willing, you’re right.”

Kari took a long drink from her mug of apple cider.

“You know, Tam,” Kari turned to look at him with a mischievous grin. “We should speak to the Aybara’s about taking a cutting or two from their trees.”

Tam raised his eyebrows.

“Our own apple orchard isn't good enough is it?” Tam asked wryly.

“No,” Kari said in a tone that would brook no argument. “And the proof of that is in this cup, Tamlin al’Thor.”

“Now Kari,” Abell choked out around a loud laugh. “I don’t think it’s the apples you’re having a problem with, I think it must Tam’s brewing.”

Tam threw a crust of bread at him.

* * *

Five years had passed since the Battle of the Shining Walls. The summer sun was beating down on the back of Tam’s neck as he worked alone in the tabac field. Meanwhile, Rand sat fidgeting on a chair by the fireplace. He was desperate to be outside with his father, chasing birds away from the crops, riding around on Jidan the sheep just like his favourite hero, splashing in the stream that cut through the farm. Kari put a firm hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not leaving this house with your hair half cut, Rand al’Thor,” she admonished with a smile. “What will our neighbours think?”

“But ma,” Rand whined. “It’s the best day for an adventure!”

“Adventure can wait for another few minutes, my love.”

Rand’s bottom lip came out in a sulk, but he sat still nonetheless. Kari chuckled and ran her fingers through his silky hair, marvelling at how it glistened like burnished copper in the sun. She began to cut and her vision swam. Rand jerked away from her with a yelp.

“Ma, you got my ear,” he cried. He turned around to frown at her. “Ma!”

Kari al’Thor was on her knees behind the stool, one hand pressed to her temples and the other steadying herself on the ground, clutched around the scissors.

“Ma?” Rand's voice was timid as he held one hand against his ear. Kari looked up at her son with a weak smile.

“Oh, my darling boy, look what I’ve done,” she said. “Would you go and get your father for me?”

Rand nodded and left the farmhouse. He ran to the field his father was working in, clambering onto the bottom post to lean over the fence.

“Da!” Rand called. “Da, come quick!”

Tam straightened to look at him, and Rand jumped down and took off running back to the house. Kari had managed to get herself seated in the armchair by the fire in the time it had taken Rand to run to the tabac field and back. Tam came bursting through the door a moment later, chest heaving.

“What is it?” Tam demanded. “What’s wrong?”

Rand gestured to Kari, the cut on his ear forgotten. “Ma was cutting my hair. And then she just fell over.”

Tam looked to Kari. She had a strained smile on her face, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“It happened again, Tam,” she whispered. “I was cutting his hair and it just went. I’ve nicked his ear. Burn me!”

Tam’s eyebrows shot up his forehead; Kari would never normally use such language, especially around Rand. It spoke to how scared she was. He knelt down beside her to take her hand in his, bringing it up to brush his lips against it.

“I’ll fetch the Wisdom,” Tam murmured. “Will you be alright for a few hours?”

Kari looked at him, then looked at Rand. She took a deep breath and then nodded.

“Right,” Tam said, slapping his knees as he stood. “Now then, Rand, you’re going to look after your ma while I’m away. Are you up to the task?”

Rand stood up straight, nodding solemnly.

“Good man,” Tam leaned forward to ruffle Rand’s uneven hair. Tam tied a light cloak around his neck and hooked an unstrung bow over his shoulder. He kissed Kari and gave Rand a hug. “I’ll be back shortly.”

With that he was gone, into the stable and cantering away down the Quarry Road

“I’m sorry, my sweet boy,” Kari said. Her voice was thick with tears. “Come here, let me take a look at you.”

“It’s okay, ma,” Rand assured her. He came forward slowly and clambered into her lap, wrapping his short arms around her neck. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, I promise.”

She smiled at him and planted a kiss against his forehead, then lifted his uncut hair to look at his ear. In truth it was only a small cut, but pain flashed across her face as she examined it. She wiped a smear of blood away with her thumb and gave Rand another kiss.

“While we wait, why don’t I tell you all about how Jain Farstrider journeyed all the way to the other side of the Aiel Waste, and what he found there?” Kari asked, tickling Rand’s ribs.

Rand giggled and nodded his head with eagerness.

“Long ago, in the lands far to the East,” Kari began, settling into the chair and holding Rand close to her.

*

Doral Barran was disappearing from view down the road. Tam stood at the door in silence, watching her figure grow smaller and smaller.

“Is Ma going to be okay?” Rand asked from behind him, worming his way between his father and the door to take Tam’s arm.

Tam looked at his son. At his eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. He tried not to let his own worries show on his face.

“I don’t know, lad,” Tam admitted. “I don’t know.”

* * *

Seven years had passed since the Battle of the Shining Walls. Tam had had to learn how to do alone what Kari and he had done together for so long. There had only been Tam to stroke Rand’s hair as the boy fell asleep, singing gentle lullabies in hushed tones to take his mind away from the looming darkness. There had only been Tam to sew Rand’s clothes when he outgrew the ones he had. There had only been Tam to teach Rand his letters and to read him tales of famous adventures by the fire. Only Tam to watch Rand grow. Only Tam to stand by Rand’s side as they lay flowers on Kari’s grave. Only Tam.

The two of them rarely ventured into the village anymore but each trip they made began with a stop at the Winespring Inn where Marin would cut Rand’s hair. Tam had never managed it properly, not the way Kari had. One side would always be a tad too long, and when he had tried to correct it, he would take away too much. Rand’s hair would have been perpetually uneven for the past year and a half, if not for Marin. 

Despite them not sharing a drop of blood, Tam could still see so much of Kari in Rand. He could see her gentleness in Rand’s smile, could see her kindness in the way Rand would speak softly to the sheep, could see her determination when Rand tilted his head to the side with a scowl if he couldn’t make sense of his letters. A thousand tiny ways to show that Rand was Kari’s son. A thousand tiny ways to make his chest tighten with grief and longing one day, and warm with love and thankfulness the next.

The time for grief had not yet passed, Tam wasn’t sure if it ever would, but he was grateful that he still had someone to share his days with. And the Light blind him if he didn’t raise Rand to be a testament to Kari as a mother!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates today!!!  
> Oh, you thought this was just going to be a cute story about Tam and Rand? Wrong! We need angst to lay the ground work.


	3. Presence

Rand strolls by the Village Green, feeling immensely proud as he passes Ewin Finngar adding finishing touches to his flower garland. Rand is much too old for constructing garlands now. He is eleven and that means that he is finally old enough to compete in festival events that aren’t just for babies. He has spent every single second this year practicing with his bow and arrows, every single second that he had spare from his chores of course. He seems to get given more chores every year, which he thinks is mighty unfair. Still, at least his da doesn’t have any cows that need milking. Mat says that milking the cows is even worse than weeding the crop fields.

Rand can hit the target from fifty paces almost every time now. His da has been teaching him proper breathing exercises, the ones that the best bowmen in the world use. He says that they’ll help him to focus, and that when he’s focused, he’ll be able to shoot better. His da is the best bowman in the whole of the Two Rivers. He can hit a target from three hundred paces, even when it’s windy. His da says that Rand is an excellent bowman.

There are eight other boys that Rand has to shoot with, and three of them are older than him, but he knows that he can win. Mat is okay, but Rand knows he spends too much time laughing to get his arrows to fly straight. And Perrin didn’t even want to enter but Mat made him. He won’t be shooting for another hour yet, so Rand has time to get some honey cakes from Mistress al’Vere. He makes his way to the tables that have been put up outside the inn and sits down to wait next to Loise who is wiping pots.

When Mistress al’Vere comes out of the inn with a tray piled high with freshly baked treats, Rand leaps up to ask if she needs any help. She laughs kindly as she puts down the tray, telling him that all she has left to do is to wait for her pies to finish cooking, then runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

“This looks like it’s due another cut to me.” She squats down in front of him to tug the hair straight, it’s nearly grown past his shoulders since the last time he was in Emond’s Field. “If you wait another half an hour, I can get it all neat and tidy for you.”

“I can’t, Mistress al’Vere,” Rand says with a grin. “I’ll be getting ready for the archery tournament by then.”

“Of course,” she tuts, shaking her head at herself. “How could I forget, we’ve a whole host of new entrants this year. I’m sure Tam’s been teaching you his tricks, eh?”

Rand nods, beaming. Then takes two honeycakes before she decides that his hair can’t wait. He gives on to Mat when he finds him, and the pair of them head over to the tournament grounds to watch the men at the quarterstaff.

By the time it’s their turn to shoot, Rand feels sick. It seems like the whole village has come to watch him and his friends. Everyone’s da is watching, and everyone’s ma. He takes in a deep breath, just like Tam taught him and pulls back his bowstring.

*

Rand is quiet on the way back to the farm. He knows he is better at archery than stupid Wil al’Seen.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” his da says when they are halfway home. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rand scowls and shakes his head.

His da doesn’t say anything else before they reach home. He leaves Rand to put away Creeva, then comes out with a bowl of water for Rand to wash his hands and face before he comes inside.

Rand keeps his back to him as he brushes out Creeva’s coat. He doesn’t want his da to see that he’s crying. He doesn’t want him to think he’s still a baby. Not like stupid Ewin Finngar and his stupid flower garland.

“Look, lad,” his da tries again. “It was your first year in the archery competition. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t win. What matters is that you tried. That you had a good time. That you and all your friends had a chance to show the village how well you’re coming on.”

“But that’s even worse,” Rand whines. “Now everyone will think that I can’t shoot a bow. Even Perrin did better than I did, and he doesn’t even care about archery! I’m supposed to be the best in the village, just like you.”

“Rand,” His da says. “I placed third this year, and I shook the hands of the men who placed above me. Their success does not make my attempt a failure. And Wil al’Seen’s does not make yours so either. Tell me, how many arrows did you have to shoot?”

“Three,” Rand mumbles, voice sullen as he scrubs at his cheeks with his sleeve.

“And how many of those arrows hit that target?”

“One.”

“And how far away was that target?”

Rand is silent.

“How far away was that target?”

Rand stops brushing Creeva, he can feel the muscles in his jaw twitching as he tries to hold back a grin.

“Rand,” his da says. “Rand, turn around for me, lad.”

Rand turns and no amount of teeth clenching can stop the smile that breaks out on his face.

“Seventy five paces,” Rand shouts in a rush. “I’ve never shot further than sixty paces before!”

“Exactly,” says his da. “I couldn’t be prouder of your performance today; you stood out there in front of the whole village and you made me proud. Now, the next time you see Wil, I expect you to tell him how well he did. Even though we may not win, the only thing that keeps us from true victory is how we take our defeat. Do you understand?”

Rand nods and wipes his eyes once more. He gives Creeva a rub on the nose and heads into the house with his da to make a start on supper.

* * *

Rand scuffs the floor of the barn with his feet. His da is at the back, packing away their shearing equipment. Rand’s arms are aching from holding the sheep still for Tam. Gone are the days when all he had to do was pull up errant weeds from the tabac. His da says they’ll be repairing the stable tomorrow and another chance will have passed Rand by. He clears his throat but the noise is covered by one of the sheep bleating loudly outside. Rand throws a glare in its direction. He clears his throat again. Tam hears him this time and glances over his shoulder.

“Are you alright, Rand?” He asks.

Rand nods slowly. “I was just… I was just wondering… if you could…”

“Speak up, lad,” Tam calls across the barn.

Rand clears his throat once more. “Erm,” he reaches up to scratch his head.

His da raises an eyebrow, brushing the dust off his hands as he makes his way to the barn doors.

“Well,” says Rand. “We’re meant to be heading into Emond’s Field in a few weeks…”

Tam taps Rand on the shoulder to hurry him out of the barn, swinging the big doors closed as he does.

“And I was just wondering…”

“Yes?” His da draws the question out, looking at him with an expectant expression, shepherding the sheep across the yard to their pen.

“Well I was just wondering if you could teach me how to dance,” Rand says in a rush. “I mean, if you want to, I mean.”

His da stops and turns to look at him with a surprised look.

“You’re a bit young to be thinking of dancing yet, aren’t you?” He asks.

“No,” Rand yelps. “Mat says that sixteen is the best age for it, and Wil al’Seen has been dancing since he was even younger than that.”

Tam nods slowly. “I see,” he says “Well I can’t say I’m not surprised at those two, but I thought you weren’t interested in all that. I seem to remember you pulling your face at Maryse Candwin when she asked you to dance last month. What’s changed your mind so quickly?”

Rand can feel his face heating up. His fair skin has never been very good at hiding his blushes.

“Very well then, lad. I have to say I’m a little rusty, but since you asked so politely, I can try to teach you a step or two.” There is a hesitance to his words, his eyebrows have drawn down into a thoughtful line.

Rand knows why Tam is reluctant, why he only joins in with the dancing in the village on the rarest of occasions. He has a distant memory of his parents whirling around the farmyard while they sang together. It’s one of the only memories he has of his mother, but they never speak about it anymore. Rand still catches Tam humming a mournful version of that tune when he’s supposed to be asleep.

If Rand hadn’t thought Mat would have laughed him to an early grave there’s no way he’d have asked his da for help. Even so he’s on the verge of regretting even asking. Part of him wishes the ground would tear open and swallow him whole, like what they say happened in the Breaking. Part of him. The other part, the bigger part, wants him to scream at his father in a desperation to get started. He thinks he has probably have left it too late to not be tripping over his feet.

Rand clears his throat yet again. “I thought,” he begins. “I thought that we could just try the basic ones. You know the ones where you all dance and switch partners… maybe the… maybe the one that’s saved for nameday feasts?”

“Aaaah, so it’s Egwene then is it, lad?” Tam nods slowly again. “Very well. Very well. We’ll start tonight.”

* * *

Tam pulls a metal cup from the barrel of apple brandy and holds it out to Rand.

“Go on, give that a taste,” Tam says. “A small one, mind, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Rand takes the cup and breathes in deeply, savouring the sweet smell of the drink. This is the first year his da has let him be a part of the process. It was a lot more complicated than he had been anticipating, but he has enjoyed learning. He touches the cup to his lips and takes a small sip.

“What do you think?” asks Tam. “Is it ready?”

“I think I prefer the cider.” Rand says with a grimace causing his da to wheeze with laughter.

Tam thumps himself on the chest and shakes his head

“Give it here,” Tam says and pours the portion of brandy into his mouth. He swills it around before swallowing, then nods his approval. “This might be the best batch yet. Well done, son. You’ve got the quantities just right.”

“Da,” Rand breathes, but he isn’t quite sure what to say. He knows how much this brandy means to Tam. He has felt more and more over the recent years that Tam is beginning to view him as a partner, not just a son. He can feel his throat getting tighter so he stands and shrugs off the compliment. “It’s all in the apples.”

His da quirks an eyebrow but says nothing, corking the barrel and standing.

“Come on then, lad, let’s get these loaded for the morning. Maybe after we get back I’ll finally show you how I manage the books. How does that sound?”

“Great, thanks,” Rand groans. “How am I supposed to enjoy myself at Bel Tine when I’ve got the thought of that looming over my head? Besides, when Mat asked to be taught, I know you and Abell said it would wait until we were five and twenty.”

Tam snorts. “Firstly, you’ve got a much leveller head on your shoulders than Matrim Cauthon. Secondly, Mat asked to be taught so that he could get out of the milking. You know it and I know it. And thirdly, most importantly,” he raises a warning finger at Rand. “With the year being how it’s been, well I could make use of another set of eyes. Now come on, I want this done so we can lock up the sheep before it gets too dark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consistency? In my writing? I'm sorry I don't know her.
> 
> -
> 
> Me, planning: I will write a cute fic about Tam and Rand's relationship  
> Me, writing: Fill it with sad notes about Kari!!!  
> Me, editing: You are allowed one sad note, and that is all


End file.
